Another Year
By Chibi Ra Chan
Rated T, for safety
Pairing; Turkey/Hungary
Written for the Winter Contest over at the TurkHun club at dA. [Second place!]
Quick note; The 'Year: 000' stands for the number of new years they have spent together, not the date. Also, the quotes used throughout the story are from the song 'Another Year; A Short History of Almost Something' By Amanda Palmer. I highly suggest you listen to the song while reading this.
Year 001:
I tried to fall in it again, my friends took bets and disappeared.
They mime their sighing violins, I think I'll wait another year.
Their parents had ditched them. There was no way to make it sound pretty or to flower it up, they had honest to god ditched them on the craziest night of the year; the winter solstice.
"Anne! Anne, where are you?" Sadiq yelled tiredly. They walked hand and hand through the rowdy crowd, Hungary leading and Turkey rubbing at his eyes in between cries for his mother.
The usually quiet town is alight with music and dancing, candle light giving the entire place an almost eerie glow. While Sadiq had lived a relatively sheltered life thanks to his mother, Lady Katun, Eli had not. He and his grandfather, Magyar, had traveled through many a debauched city and knew that these people were completely off their asses punch drunk.
Hungary also had a sneaking suspicion that their parents were in a similar state as well.
"Eli, where is Anne?" The tiny boy asks stubbornly. The elder of the two fledgling nations sighs. Turkey looked even smaller than usual in his thick, formal solstice outfit, hand stitched by his mother.
This was one of the few times that the boy had been allowed out into town without his mother present. 'Well she's here.' he thinks mirthlessly 'She's just probably drunk off her ass.' but he couldn't tell him that. Turkey adored his mother and would never believe that she could be as base as these humans.
"Lady Turkey is busy, we should head home." The final word tasted off on his lips. He and his grandfather had been living with Sadiq and Katun for years, but she had never thought as the too large house as home before.
"But wh-" Suddenly the pair of children are knocked over by a drunken couple who are laughing and barely able to walk in a straight-line.
They both are sent sprawled into the dirt. Hungary feels a stinging sensation on his cheek and knows that it is bleeding. He grits his teeth and is about to kick the ever loving shit out of the people who knocked them down, but he stops short when he sees Sadiq sprawled on the ground, his special outfit torn and dirty. He is trying his best not to cry from a cut on his knee.
Instantly Eli feels the anger drain out of him. This stupid country is making him go soft, he knows it, but he can't help the pang of, something, that Sadiq causes to race through his heart. "You can't cry over that little thing." He reprimands lightly but there is no real force in it.
Turkey glares the best he can. "I'm not crying!" He swears but there are definitely tears on his chubby cheeks when he tries to get up.
Hungary curses their parents for not being there. "You're such a baby." This does nothing to sooth the petulant child.
"I want Anne."
Eli sighs and knows that Turkey won't budge an inch until he gets his mother, or at least something close. He blushes to his ears as he takes the smaller boy's knee and kisses the torn flesh. He had seen Lady Katun do it to his injuries after they practiced swordsmanship many times before. "Lets go home and get this fix up, okay?" His voice is soft and hopefully comforting.
But Sadiq only stares at him as if he has grown another head.
Hungary's face flames red as he scoffs and pulls the boy up to his feet. "D-don't give me that look!" None the less the brunette nation picks up his younger counterpart and places him on his back. Shockingly enough Sadiq doesn't say anything, he only wraps his chubby arms around his neck.
In fact he doesn't say anything until they are out of the city and the stars are shinning brightly above them. "Hey Hungary?" He asks half asleep. Said nation feels his lips speak against his neck and he denies how adorable it is.
"What?" he says irritably.
"You're a girl like Anne, aren't you?"
Hungary rolls his green eyes and retorts sarcastically "Pffft, yeah, right. If I'm a girl then you're going to grow up to be the greatest empire on earth." Still the Hungarian nation begins humming lightly in hopes that it will lull Sadiq to sleep.
Turkey only smiles and lays his head on her shoulder. His brain is already referring to him as a 'her'.
He is certain because only girls could kiss boo-boo's and make them better, his mother had told him herself and Anne never lied. She said that one day he would find a girl who take her place and kiss his boo-boos and sing lullabies to him. 'One day you'll have a karim of your own!' And his knee doesn't hurt at all anymore, so why shouldn't the rest be true?
So he listens to Hungary hum with a new set of ears and he is surprised by how much softer her voice sounds now that he knows to listen closer.
There was no doubt about it, Eli was a girl.
And by default that meant she was his.
The morning after the solstice Hungary is still asleep when his mother and Magyar return home looking tired and thoroughly hung over.
Sadiq is not amused in the least.
"You kept Anne out." It isn't a question because in his childish mind he had already decided that his innocent Anne would never had left him alone all night if it weren't for the old man.
"Tatlim, why aren't you asleep?" his mother asks wearily. She had not been expecting her four year old to be waiting up all night for her to return. A bit of guilt jolted through her body when she sees his scraped knee and torn clothing.
"We looked for you." He says stubbornly, refusing to be distracted by her affections. Magyar nods to himself once. It seems as if Eli was training him out of being a spoiled brat after all.
"We were out having fun." Katun explains. Magyar does nothing and simply observes.
"Without me?" There is hurt in his voice, but Turkey is surprisingly serious this morning and only lets his lip tremble once before hardening his expression as much as a four year old can. "Eli is a girl."
Both adults' eyes widen. The old warrior narrows his soon after though. "Why do you say that?" his voice is gruff per usual but Turkey hears a hint of grudging respect in his baritone. Even though no one has out right confirmed it, their entertaining his claim was proof enough.
"I know it. She kissed my knee. That makes her a girl. And mine." He adds the last part almost as an after thought.
'Heavens help us.' Katun prays silently and picks up her son from his spot on the floor and holds him at eye level. "Does Hungary know?" He shakes his head 'no' "You must not tell her Sadiq, or anyone else besides me and Magyar. It is very important."
"Why?"
Magyar intervenes surprising both mother and son. "Female nations do not usually last long. Kings won't respect or follow a girl in battle in politics." he can sense the on coming argument and holds up his hand. "Your mother is a rare exception. The world must respect and fear Hungary as a man before they will accept her as a woman."
Turkey looks at his mother confused.
Lady Turkey sighs, she knows that she was going to have to appeal to her son's interests in order to get him to cooperate. At times like this, she wishes she hadn't raised him to be so smart and spoilt. "You want Eli to be your karim right?"
Sadiq nodded seriously and Magyar rolls his eyes.
"Then part of your job is protecting her. If people find out she is a girl than she could get hurt, or die. You don't want that do you?" The ancient nation sees understanding spark in her child's amber eyes.
"I have to protect my karim."
"Hey brat, where are you? It's time to start train- oh! Grandpa, Lady Turkey, you're finally back." Hungary greets nervously when she notices to the two adults.
The ancient nations lock eyes for a moment and are silently reassured when Turkey demands to be let down so that Hungary can start their swordsmanship lesson for today.
The secret should be safe, for now at least. As long as Turkey believed that he had an obligation (and something to gain) from keeping the young Hungarian's gender a secret, then they would be safe.
'Sadiq does always take care of what he thinks is his after all.' Lady Turkey thinks before she retires to her room, vowing to never get drunk in town on new years again.
Year 031
This weather turns my cheeks to rust, I am a lousy engineer
The winter makes things hard enough, I think I'll wait another year
Thirty more winter solstices pass before he knows it.
Turkey vaguely remembered waking up on new years morning and seeing his mother staring out the window with an unreadable look on her face.
"Anne?" he calls out and Lady Turkey sighs. She turns to look at him and he sees that she is tired, more so than he had ever seen her. But his mother nation smiles none the less and smiles for his sake.
"Come see sweetheart." she waves him over and her sits obediently be her side. At once he is amazed by how bright everything is outside. The sky is grey but the earth, brown and dusty just the night before, was now completely blanketed in white.
His amber eyes widen in amazement and awe. "What is that stuff Anne?"
The petite woman pats his head softly. "It's snow Sadiq, you can play in it later if you want. They say it's good luck for it to snow on the first day of the year. We're….We are very lucky tatlim." Her voice trails off and under normal circumstances he would question what upset his mother but right now he is so enraptured by the strange white snowflakes that he doesn't notice his mother's mood at all.
"It's so pretty! Wait until I tell Hungary! We can train in it!" He darts off to the part of the house that Hungary's room was in, ignoring his mother calling out for him to wait. He wanted to show her the snow first.
He grins as he imagined how jealous, and impressed, she would be that the snow had come to his land and not any other. It hadn't even occurred to the young Turk that snow could be common anywhere else if it was such a rare sight to his people. And as of late impressing Eli had become a very important thing to him, even if he wasn't exactly sure why.
"Eli, wake up! Wait until you see what I did!" He yells swinging her door open. "There's so much sn-" He doesn't finish his sentence because instead of seeing an annoyed Eli with bed head, he only sees an empty room.
"Turkey…" his mother coos softly. Katun knows that as hard as she took it, her beloved son would take it infinitely harder. While he didn't like Magyar so much, Hungary was another matter all together. He looked up to the other nation and had even figured out that she was a girl. In truth Eli had been the only friend he had ever had.
"Where's Eli?" he asks cocking his tiny head to the side in confusion.
Lady Turkey sighs and tells him as gently as she can. "Sweetheart, Magyar is…dead. He faded away last night. Hungary has gone home to take care of things. He- She rather, won't be coming back. I'm so sorry darling, I know how much you like her."
But he hears nothing after "Magyar is dead' and 'Hungary has gone home.'
"But how could she go home?"
Katun kneels down and locks eyes with her only remaining son and caresses his unruly hair in an attempt to sooth him. "She has a lot of things to do now that she's in charge. " She mummers softly.
Sadiq shakes his head and pushes his mother's affection away, something he has never done before. "No, I mean how can she leave here and go home? This is her home. With us." He feels his eyes start to sting at the corners. "With me."
And Katun's heartbreaks for her only surviving son.
Year 032
Plus I'm only twenty-six years old, My grandma died at eighty-three.
That's lots of time if I don't smoke, I think I'll wait another year
Decades pass before they see each other again, under very sad circumstances.
Lady Katun was dead.
Hungary goes to see him, the boy on the cusp of manhood and on the edge of despair. She borrows some black clothing from Gilbert, and comes to pay her respects to the woman who had taken her and her Grandfather in.
Sadiq refuses to see her, or any one. And Eli doesn't have the words to comfort him, so she doesn't try. Hungary simply sits on the other side of the door and hums.
In his room Turkey listens and vows to grow stronger, to make his mother proud. Even then he doesn't open the door. He doesn't have the strength to face Hungary with tears in his eyes, his pride won't allow it.
So he says nothing and listens.
Eventually Hungary gives up. If he won't see her and accept her sympathy, if his ego will not yield even this once, then she won't stay and be made a fool. She had always known Turkey to be a brat, and she sees now that her prejudice was not misplaced.
Elizaveta grows tired and leaves.
Neither of them are willing to give an inch.
Year: 033
I think I'll wait another year.
It is the middle of the night, and snow litters the battlefield with a fresh layer of powder. Around the campsite people are drinking and sitting around campfires, celebrating the last night of the year and hoping that the next will bring less bloodshed.
It is unlikely, the Turks and the Hungarians had been warring for three years already.
No one notices as Elizaveta sneaks around the camp to one of the larger tents at the back of the base. Her normal attire had been switched out for the enemies' uniform, as to not bring notice to herself. No one will question a young boy, probably drunk for the first time, walking aimlessly through their ranks.
And Hungary can fool anyone into thinking she was a boy, she had been doing so, even to herself, for hundreds of years. With little trouble she finds what's she's looking for.
"Are you completely out of your mind." She seethes as she forces her way into his tent. His attendants and guards move to escort her out in a blink of an eye, but Turkey waves them away as if he expected her to barrel into his tent on new years eve.
"Leave us."
"But sir, it's -"
"Now. There is no threat, we're old friends, aren't we Eli?" He doesn't need to raise his voice, because the men shuffle out of the tent like children being scolded at for eating their desert first. Hungary holds her head high as they leave and focuses her attention on the nation before her.
Hungary hasn't seen him in years, not since his mother finally passed over a hundred years ago, and she is surprised by how deep his voice has gotten, not fully formed but much more tolerable than the nasal whine he had as a baby. But he still held a bit of baby fat remaining on his features.
Sadiq is taller than her, but not by much and he is dressed like a prince rather than a soldier. She is older than him but he looks older than her in human appearance. He 15 at the most and her a younger 13.
She feels his amber eyes take in the sight of her, not quit a woman but definitely not a boy, and when he notices she's wearing his men's armor, he grins. "It's been a long time, I was hoping you'd be wearing a dress, but my colors are just as welcome."
Her hand aches to smack the smirk off his face. Despite his older appearance, Turkey is still very much the spoiled child she taught swordsmanship to. Elizaveta growls and is barely able to stop herself from punching him in the face for bringing up the fact she was a girl. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
Sadiq still smiles and plops carefree into a chair. His tent is better suited than that of the soldiers, a perk of being their nation, she supposed. "Depends on who you ask." He shrugs. "Come sit down Eli, or is it Elizaveta now? That's a very pretty name."
Hungary will not sit. She is barely able to stomach being in the same room as Turkey. Their soldiers were dying on the battlefield right now, fighting each other to the death and he wanted to have idle chat? "You can shove that compliment up your ass. You have some nerve sending that- that-" She couldn't even say it. "That thing to my king!"
Predictably enough the brunette man ignores her. "You talk like a man, but you fill out my armor quite nicely." Elizaveta feels her cheeks flush and she does her best to stop it. The boy-child laughs merrily. "Not that I mind much., I like that about you."
"You're a vile creature!" she yells vehemently.
Sadiq again shrugs, but this time stands and saunters toward her, still all grins. Elizaveta goes rigid and prepares to strike if necessary. "Come on Eli, you make it sound like I sent you a severed head. I simply sent your king a way to end this silly war." His hand reaches out to stroke a strand of hair that has pulled out of her ponytail, but she slaps his hand away and glares.
"You sent him a ring!"
There she had said it. He sent her a ring. A simple gold band with a single emerald welded into the metal. But they both knew what it meant.
Undeterred by her rejection he once again fingers the brown strand, curling it around his tanned fingers. Something shifts in his eyes and suddenly he isn't as young as she thought. "I sent you a ring, not your king."
Stubbornly she looks away. "Why?" She can hear the men cheering outside, celebrating the first seconds of the new year.
He looks at her fondly, like a mother duck to her duckling. "I want you. I always have, even as a kid. You're a girl Eli, you need someone to protection you. I can do that, I can give you everything you need, everything you could want. We can end this war in time for the new year." Sadiq closes his eyes and leans his forehead against hers. She smells like the battlefield and the rain; he finds it calms him. "You can be my princess Elizaveta, don't you want that?"
Elizaveta slaps him across the cheek. Hard.
Turkey's head swings to the side and it is obvious that that was not the answer he was expecting. He looks at her shock, anger, hurt and annoyance clearly visible in his eyes. "That was a mistake on your part Eli."
There is nothing but pure anger in her green eyes now. "The only mistake I made is not kicking your ass sooner. You may look like an adult and dress like a prince but on the inside you're nothing but a spoiled little child who wants what he can't have! I don't want or need your protection! And I don't want your stupid jewels or finery either." Elizaveta reaches under her armor and pulls out something shiny and immediately pelts him with it.
The ring bounces off his chest and lands at his feet with a small 'ping'.
"Keep your stupid ring you savage of a man. I will never, ever, marry you." She glares at him with deep loathing one last time and storms out of the tent into the crisp, now January, night.
Sadiq picks up the ring and clenches it in his hand. Suddenly the luxurious tent does nothing to stop the chill from running through his body.
For some reason even after the redness has faded, Turkey feels it's sting for a long time afterwards.
Year 037
I want my chest pressed to your chest, my nervous system interferes
Ten or eleven months have passed, I think I'll wait another year
The next new years eve they spend together much has changed.
She is under his control, and has been for months. Mohacs was nothing more than a horrible memory at this point.
They don't celebrate the Christmas holidays in his country but he allows her to do as she pleases. Sadiq is lenient in letting his conquered countries follow their own beliefs. In fact living under the ottoman's rule was shockingly simple.
Turkey didn't ask much of them, occasional aide in battle, for them to wear his people's clothing and pay their taxes. He didn't even require them to talk to him.
They haven't had a proper conversation since she turned down his marriage proposal.
Elizaveta pushed these thoughts away from her, twas the season to be jolly, even if it didn't look it in this damned desert, and she was going to spend it being merry. Which was easier said than done.
Egypt and Greece, who she usually spent her time with, had left to go home for the holidays. Turkey had allowed them the rare chance to leave the Golden Cage that was the Ottoman household, and both had left without thinking twice.
She had been allowed to go home as well, but Hungary can't bring herself to go back and pretend that the Hapsburg king on her thrown was normal. She couldn't don an extravagant court dress and make small talk with that wimp Austria.
If nothing else, living in the ottoman house had allowed her a much needed escape from the expectations of her rulers. Here she didn't have to listen to anyone, save for Sadiq when he rarely spoke directly to her. She spent her days in loose fitting chima pants, walking barefoot through the gardens. She ran races with the royal children and traded stories with Egypt, she gossiped with Greece and fought loudly and openly with anyone who annoyed her.
As much as she hated to admit it, she was almost happy here. Not that she would ever say this out loud, least Turkey hear and think her grateful or Greece find out and hate her forever.
Still if Elizaveta were to be completely honest with herself, something in her had irreversibly changed after suffering defeat at Turkey's hand. She hadn't so much changed, but the way she saw the world changed. She was a different person now and going home and pretending that she wasn't made her sick to her stomach.
So she stayed.
'So much for having Christmas spirit.' She thinks to herself as she sits at a large window sill, looking drearily out at the orange tinged landscape. 'It's hard to celebrate a new year correctly, when it's 80 degrees outside.'
"What are you doing here?" Turkey's voice echoing off the walls of the large room makes her jump. She hadn't expected to run into, even if it was his home. She had been under his rule for nearly 5 years and they had barely interacted at all.
Part of her wonders if it was because of the ring incident.
Elizaveta turns and takes in the sight of him, tall, covered head to toe in red and white fabrics, with that stupid hat and even stupider mask blocking her from locking eyes with him. Despite their true ages he was older than her and it irked her.
Rolling her eyes she answers him. "Looking at the window obviously."
She pushes her hair behind her ears and turns back to the window. Absently she thinks it's time for a hair cut, it's getting too long and now reached past her shoulders.
For once Sadiq doesn't take the bait and ignores the quip. "Why are you here and not at home is what I meant."
"Are you trying to get rid of me?" She asks avoiding his question still. Hungary has no desire to explain that her country hardly felt like home anymore. It is too personal of a topic.
In the back of her mind she finds it ironic that she had broken in more new years with his man than any other person alive, yet they could hardly talk anymore.
"Never." he answers quickly and they both are surprised by how automatic the answer is.
The brunette flinches as if this simple word has hurt her. To his credit Sadiq goes rigid at the admission as well. Hungary tries to search his eyes for meaning, but white fabric blocks her way.
'I take it back, now this is too personal.' Elizaveta feels as if she's heard something she shouldn't, and doesn't want, to hear.
Elizaveta is ready to retort something scathing about him being a stupid imperial brute but all that comes out is; "I miss the snow."
Besides being not what she intended to say at all, the words are said softly as she were talking to an old friend rather than the boy, man, person, who had conquered her.
Sadiq, despite his new adult status, is still every bit as childish as before and doesn't know how to respond to this girl-woman. "Aa. We don't get much snow here." He looks as if he is going to say more, but he stops himself and walks to stand behind her instead.
Hungary finds that his closeness makes her nervous. "It's New Years." She says stupidly., immediately wishing she hadn't said anything at all. 'No shit. Way to state the obvious.' Her mind curses at her. The voice sound suspiciously like Gilbert so she wills it away.
"It is." She feels him reach out toward her, and she wills herself not to flinch and to keep staring out of the window at the nearly completely set sun.
His fingers, gloved and tentative, touch the hair that lays at her shoulders. She shivers at the contact. "Your hair," He murmurs "It has gotten longer. I did not notice."
She forces herself to speak. "A lot changes in five years of ignorance." This is said at barely a whisper and she feels his hands move away only to finger the brown strands at the base of her neck.
"Some more than others." Sadiq lets go and sits down next to her at the sill, surprising both of them. "You should keep it long. I'd like it longer." Elizaveta quirks an eyebrow and faces him head on for the first time. She stares into the white mask as if she can see past it to his eyes, his soul.
"I'd like it if you got rid of the stupid mask."
Turkey cracks a smile. "I'll consider it." He does take off the silly hat and it is almost as good so she retorts with a hint of a smile.
"Then I'll consider not cutting my hair."
Both watch as the last of the sunlight fades behind the cityscape and the twilight illuminates the room for a few more minutes.
They are different people now and she doesn't quite know how to proceed in this tentative peace he is offering her. Neither is really apologizing for anything and neither will admit wrong doing, but that is fine.
A silent truce is better than a silent war any day.
He almost told her about the snow.
He was close, so very close to telling her about how excited he had been when he saw snow for the first time. He was right in assuming that she would love it as well. Turkey was so close to telling her everything really, but he remembered that also meant he would have to explain why he hadn't played in it that first snow fall, why he had to wait an extra thirty years for the next freak blizzard.
He hadn't wanted to play in the new snow if she wasn't there to play with him.
So he didn't tell her. Sadiq had taken the easy way out and said nearly nothing.
He wasn't a kid anymore, he could not afford to go back to being one. He had spent these last three hundred years growing not just in body, but as a nation. Turkey had become the great Ottoman empire a force to be reckoned with in the world.
He wasn't that whiny little kid that threw a temper tantrum whenever he didn't get what he wanted.
Now he always got what he wanted, he had worked hard and earned the right to want as contradictory as it sounded. And in a strange way Hungary had been the catalyst for his sudden maturation.
Sadiq had never forgotten the way she rejected him, literally threw his desire in his face and called him childish. It was that rejection, the ugly picture of him that she saw, that caused him to change.
And still, no matter how much he swore he had moved on and left his claim of her, he could not truly believe his own words.
She is rough around the edges and young in body. Elizaveta was nothing like the full figured coy creatures of the harem who would trip over themselves to garnish his affections. She could care less if he liked her, if anyone liked her really. She was crude, a fact he blamed on that moron Prussia, and she barely even liked him.
But despite Hungary's many flaws, she enchanted him, she always had. The scars and bruises on her body and the calluses from secret spars with the guards (which she didn't think he knew about ) were strangely beautiful to him. When Greece spoke ill about him, he wanted nothing more than to lock the boy away forever, but when those same words came from her pink mouth they amused and excited him.
For the last five years he pretended that she didn't have this effect on his person, but it was a new year, and a fresh start if today's events were any indication.
Because when it really came down to it, Turkey was just as selfish as he had always been. He wanted her to see him the way he had seen her, and still saw her: as something worth having, worth changing for, someone worth desiring.
Maybe this was why he snuck into Hungary's room after midnight, the first night of the new year and left a single snow white tulip next to her pillow so that it would be the first thing she saw when she awoke.
It wasn't snow, but it was the best he could offer her right now.
Year 125
I have my new Bill Hicks cd, I have my friends and my career
I think I'll wait another year.
It becomes somewhat of a tradition after that. Egypt and Greece would leave for solstice and they would welcome in the new year arguing with each other.
It is far from perfect, but Hungary can admit, to her self at least, that with each new years celebration she liked the Turk a bit more. It became easier to talk to him, to insult him, to be in his presence at all.
Every year he commented on her hair, on how long it was getting. Some years he would tell her, somewhat awkwardly that he liked it long, that she looked pretty, and every year without fail she threatened to cut it all off if he didn't lose the stupid mask.
And he would always tell her that he would consider it.
But for some reason she never cut it off. It was probably because of the beautiful white tulips that somehow found their way into her room every new years morning.
It was a good routine, with neither one really gaining or losing an inch.
Year 168
I'm not as callous as you think, I barely breathe when you are near.
It's not as bad when I don't drink, I think I'll wait another year.
Greece watches what goes on in the Ottoman house with a surprisingly sharp eye. He may seem lazy, and to an extent he is, but when it comes to Turkey that could not have been further from the truth.
'Wait, that sounded wrong.' he thinks with a roll of his eyes. His interest in Turkey came solely from how he could get away from the insufferable man and his rule. Heracles wasn't a very hateful person, in fact he considered himself to be pretty easy going, but everything about the Turk made his angry.
He hated his stupid mother for being mean to his own mother when they were still alive, he hated the fat bratty kid he used to be and he hated the loud obnoxious man he was now. He hated that the bastard took Constantinople from him and renamed it. In short Greece hated Sadiq with a passion and was always looking for a way to piss him off, or ultimately get out from under his thumb.
Heracles had thought he had found an ally in this distaste when Elizaveta had come to their household. The conquered nation had come kicking and screaming, and also found joy in pissing the Turk off. He had hoped that together they could rebel enough to get out.
But now he see's that he was wrong.
It is the winter solstice, the night before he and Egypt would leave to visit home, and he watches as Hungary accepts some finely wrapped gift from the big idiot. He see's the telltale blush on her cheeks and he sees her quickly try to make it go away by telling him that he's stupid. But Heracles can see that something has shifted in her green eyes, there is more than just annoyance in her embarrassed gaze, it is now tempered with grudging affection.
That affection had been steadily been growing into some thing more as of late. Greece hasn't missed the way that Turkey looked at their only female nation either, has always looked at her really. He knows that Sadiq has carried some sort of affection for the Hungarian girl ever since he first brought her here all those years ago.
The desire to claim, to own, to take. He wanted Elizaveta all for himself, but that wasn't surprising. Turkey has always been a selfish bastard.
But the softer looks he gave her recently, were cause for alarm. Most of the time he called the nations under his thumb by their nation names, he himself was always 'Greece' or 'the brat', but he called Hungary by her human name. it was personal, too personal.
He knows that Turkey sends them away for the new years, not because of his desire to let them be even slightly happy, but because that was the holiday that they shared together. The thought made him want to throw up.
He didn't miss the white tulips, only grown in the Sultan's private garden, that found their way into her room every year either. Greece saw the pride and affection in the Turk's eyes whenever she wore her long hair down and free. Heracles knows that she had grown it out for him, because he liked it that way.
Imagine, the great Ottoman empire practically reduced to a lovesick boy by a tiny female nation. He'd laugh if it didn't piss him off so much.
He tears his eyes away from the now squabbling pair in disgust and knows that he has lost a great ally in his fight against Turkey.
Stupid Elizaveta had ruined everything by falling for the enemy.
Hungary doesn't open the gift he gave her for the solstice until new years.
She doesn't want the others to be there, as silly as it sounds. It wasn't so much Gupta, who had never been anything less than a true friend to her, she was worried about it was Heracles. Greece had been giving her these looks lately as if he didn't know who she was anymore and Hungary didn't want him to spoil her present. It was stupid, she was being stupid, reacting thusly because of a gift, but she couldn't help it.
Elizaveta puts opening it until after they have bantered, after she tries to pluck off his stupid mask.
For the first time she is successful in removing it, but when she looks up into his eyes, amber-olive eyes that she hasn't seen since they were kids, to gloat she is stopped by the look he is giving her.
It is innocent and lewd at the same time and the insult is forgotten. Turkey doesn't smirk, he doesn't bait her into losing her temper and he doesn't try to take the mask back. Sadiq steps closer and mummers something about her winning and threads his hands through her hair.
It is different from all the other times, he isn't teasing or tugging like he usually did, he simply drags his gloveless fingers through the locks with an unreadable expression on his face.
"Looks like we both got what we wanted this year."
Hungary answers with all the intelligence and grace she has. "Huh?"
The tall man smiles indulgently, like he had when he first proposed to her. The event seemed so distant now, almost like it never really happened. The Turkey that stood before her now was infinitely different from the one that stood before her then.
This change in Turkey scares her as much as it thrills her.
Elizaveta's heart beats franticly in her chest and she doesn't pull away when he dips his head down, surely to kiss her. She's already pushed up on her tip toes and has dropped the mask in order to grasp his upper arm to steady herself in preparation.
Hungary is ready, oh is she ready, for him to kiss her.
But he doesn't.
He bypasses her lips altogether and instead whispers in her ear. "You didn't open your gift."
Elizaveta blinks in surprise before her face red with embarrassment and anger.
It is then that she punches him in the gut. "Y-YOU JERK!" She storms out of the room and hears Turkey, despite the rather powerful strike, laughing at her.
It is only then that she goes back to her room and angrily tears open the gift. 'I hate him! That stupid asshole, acting so weird and then telling me to leave! Who does he think he is! I take it back! I don't want him to kiss me, I hope he dies in his-'
But when she see the gift, a single gold ring band with a lone emerald that is heartbreakingly familiar, she takes every mean thought back.
When Turkey comes into her room that new years morning, with signature white tulips in hand, he is disheartened to see that the ring isn't on her finger.
None the less when he goes to set the flowers on her bedside table he nearly laughs when he reads the note there written in her neat hand.
'Buy me a chain. I'll wear it on a chain or nothing at all.'
The next day he buys her a chain and wordlessly secures it around her neck.
She stares at him, before shrugging and walking away.
For months afterwards the other nations wonder just why Hungary, who hated jewelry with a passion, was wearing two pieces of finery that seemed to appear out of nowhere.
Year: 311
I'm getting smaller by degrees; you said you'd help me disappear, but that could take forever.
I think I'll wait another year
"You should've seen Roddy's face! He hated that necklace!" Elizaveta slurs. She grins and clutches onto Sadiq's neck tighter. "He tried to give me another necklace to replace it."
Turkey quirks an eyebrow and readjusts the woman who was talking his ear off on his back. Not that he minded, a drunken Hungary was a very entertaining Hungary. Especially when she was telling him the story of how they met.
It was New Years again, more than 300 years after her last story took place. There is some truth in the adage that history repeats itself, because just like before they are walking home from a village on New Years, one carrying the other.
Of course there are some distinct differences. The small village is now Istanbul and instead of a debouched party at midnight there are fireworks of every color booming over head. This time he is the one carrying her home and she is piss drunk.
"Did he now?" He drawls humorously, prompting her to go on.
Elizaveta doesn't disappoint. "I told him 'No! This is a gift from my first husband!' He was so mad, but I don't care it's mine."
Turkey snorts at the comment, imagining the scene in his head. He was sure she was exaggerating a bit, but none the less, imagining ever composed Austria reacting to his new bride claiming to have been married before was pretty humorous. 'Then again it's not as if Roderich was on his first wife either.' he thinks. "First husband? I don't seem to remember us getting married."
Hungary lays her head on his shoulder, ruffling the hair on his neck. Sadiq shivers as her breath tickles that little hair. "Details, details." She dismisses. "It was an enragement ring wasn't it?"
The Turkish man grins, liking where this conversation was going. "Indeed it was."
"Then it counts! Besides you asked me like, twice, so it doubly counts, even if we never, uh, contemplated, complicated…." she trailed, off the alcohol in her system impairing her ability to find the correct wording. "Hey Turkey, what's the word for when people do it after being married?" She laughed after saying 'do it'.
"Consummate?" he supplied. Elizaveta laughed again and scooted closer, bringing her body completely flush with his back. "Hey, stop squirming so much back there or I'll drop you."
They both know he wouldn't, so she just giggles his comment off and draws patterns on his jacket with her fingers. "You know, you've been a horrible husband. 300 years of neglecting my womanly needs and all. We should do that constumate thing."
Again Sadiq snorts. "As tempting as that is tatlim, I think I'll pass until you can stand on your own."
"I can too stand on my own! I just prefer making you carry me." She purrs into his ear, her wandering finger have now made there way to his beard. "Have I ever told you that I like this little goatee thingy? Very manly, very sexy."
Sadiq groans. "I'll be sure to remind you that you said that." he says and tightens his hold on her legs that are around his waist. Really, this entire situation wasn't fair. While Elizaveta made an ass out of herself and made sexual jokes, he had to be a gentleman and brush it off.
Not exactly the new years he had been hoping for, but he'd take what he could get.
"So back to my story, well our story really. So about this time Ukraine came to live with us which pissed me off."
"I thought you liked Ukrayna?"
"I love Ukraine, it's you staring at her boobies all the time that I didn't like."
"I did not look at her 'boobies' as you so eloquently said. I was too busy looking at yours, and do I detect a hint of jealousy?"
"You're damn right I was jealous! Hers' are like the size of watermelons. Mine were all small and not bouncy."
"That's were you are wrong Eli, yours were, and still are, very bouncy."
Hungary just laughs and continues on with the story. "Whatever, so Ukraine came to live with us and every one was entranced by her assets…"
It was going to be a long walk home.
'Well, this is some poetic irony for ya.' Sadiq thinks when he walks into Elizaveta's home, said home owner passed out on his back and snoring loudly in his ear, only to find Northern Cypress sitting on the couch, looking very upset.
"You were out all night." He says tightly with his arms crossed resolutely over his chest.
"What are you still doing awake kid?" He asks tiredly. This was the last thing he had expected to have to deal with tonight. Suddenly he felt pity for his mother and all the headaches he must have caused her in his youth with stunts like this.
Northern Cypress, just like himself so many years ago, is not swayed by the concern in his voice. Alim only gives him a blank look with his olive eyes.
Sadiq sighs. "We were out." He answers as vaguely as possible, hoping it would be enough to appease his ward nation.
Predictably enough, it is not. "Why is Miss Elizaveta unconscious then?"
Turkey rolls his eyes. "You don't have to make it sound like that kid. She just drank a little too much and fell asleep, that's all."
The child nation thought about this for a moment. "Will she be okay?" he asks quietly and Turkey smiles. He had forgotten about how fond of Hungary Alim was. He was a good kid, obviously with good tastes as well.
"Eli will be fine, she just needs to rest." His trained parenting eye doesn't miss the subtle yawn that Alim tries to hide. He smiles warmly. "Looks like you need to rest too. Come on, I'll tuck you in after I drop Hungary off."
Northern Cypress give him a skeptical look for a moment before relenting and walking beside him down the hallways of their home. "Will Miss Hungary being staying with us now?"
"I hope so kid. I hope so."
Later when they return to her home, him tired from walking and her asleep from exhaustion, Turkey puts her to sleep in her own bed. He pulled up one for her ugly grey chairs, takes off his shoes and watches her sleep.
She is just as lovely as ever. Her face and body has lost it's baby fat, but still look soft and pleasant. Her hair is shorter than it was in 1699, yet it still reached her mid-back and she had begun wearing flowers in it. And despite her earlier concerns about not being endowed like Ukraine, she had ample curves and her chest was nothing to be ashamed of.
Still in many ways she is different, they are both different, from when her stories took place.
Elizaveta had grown up mentally, she wasn't the girl on the cusp of womanhood that had left his home for Europe 300 years ago. She was an adult now. Hungary had seen things that would make him squeamish. She had been married and divorced and had been shut behind that stupid wall with Russia.
Turkey would have torn down Ivan's wall himself to bring her home if herhadn't know that fool Prussia would kill himself before letting something happen to Hungary, but doesn't tell her that. In fact they don't talk about what happened after the last great war. It was too painful for both of them.
Turkey too had changed.
He wasn't an empire anymore, and hadn't been for many years. He had fallen from grace if you will and that failure made him humble in a way that he hadn't thought possible. Sadiq didn't get everything he wanted anymore, most of Europe barely paid attention to him most of the time and somehow it didn't both him so much.
He looked out for himself and his people. He took care of the few nations that were close to him, like northern Cypress who he treated like a son. His existence was smaller now, but Sadiq was mostly happy.
"You look older now."
Her whisper is rough with sleep and the remnants of alcohol in her system had faded from her blood. She is looking at him with tired eyes and s=he knows that his own mirror her weariness.
"Twenty-seven isn't exactly young." he sighs.
"Twenty-seven, already? Weren't you just nineteen?" Hungary turns from her back to her side so that she can fully face him. She reaches out her hand and takes his and threads their fingers. The act is oddly more intimate than her being pasted to his back earlier.
Her palm is warm against his.
He answers quietly. "I haven't been that young in a long time Eli." She is looking at him oddly, as if she has never seen him before. Her gaze is unsettling. "What about you, how old are you pushing now?"
She smiles again, as if she can sense his nerves, she probably can, and scoots a bit closer still. "I'm twenty-three. Not exactly young either."
As always he doesn't know to say, so he says nothing and just looks at her. The only light in the room is from the moonlight streaming through the open window and the neon green shine of her alarm clock, causing her to almost glow.
"I kept it you know." She says, breaking him out of his reverie.
"Kept what?"
Hungary lets go of his hand in order to sit up. He instantly misses the contact, but doesn't say anything. She fiddles with the top buttons of her shirt before pulling out something all too familiar.
Sadiq stares wordlessly at the necklace, and then directly into her green eyes. He isn't sure which one to address. She unclasp it from her neck and lays it on her palm. He attentively fingers the gold ring.
"I had to change the chain." She starts, suddenly very nervous. "I mean I kept the one you gave me but it broke." He is still just staring at her, so Elizaveta rambles on. "It was broken actually. One night, during the end of the marriage, Roderich and I were fighting about the war, the first big one and well, I said something mean and he snapped the chain."
Now he was the one giving her a strange look.
"I got a chain as close to the original as I could. I bought it off this trader in Cairo when I was visiting Egypt, so it's almost the same…..thing. What? What are you looking at me like that for?"
"Elizaveta." Turkey speaks slowly, as if he is talking to a particularly challenged child.
"What? Just spit it out all ready-"
"Shut up."
And then he is kissing her and she is kissing him back.
His hands cradles her jaw while her hands go everywhere; his shoulders, his arms, his back, his hair and it isn't enough.
This has been nearly a millennia in the making and it is everything and nothing like they expected. She tastes differently than he would have thought and when he nips at her lips she squeals rather than mewls. Hungary sighs into his mouth when he drags his nails across her scalp and when his fingers tangle in her hair.
He kisses her like a thirsty man in the desert drinks water. Her slim digits grasp his neck and brush against his curl and he lets out a near growl from the sensation. Turkey can't breathe from the feeling and he pulls away, just a bit, to take in air.
Elizaveta will have none of that though. "No, no you're not done yet." she gasps out and assaults his mouth with hers again.
Turkey is only too happy to comply.
When they have gotten their fill of each other, which is really only a manner of speaking because Sadiq knows he will never be tired of this woman, they lay on the bed facing each other. They are once again holding hands with the ring trapped between their palms.
Turkey uses his free appendage to smooth down her hair, which he may or may not have tussled a bit during their mutual feeling up of each other. "What is your obsession with my hair? You used to want me to grow it out and now you won't stop touching it."
"I like your hair." He answers simply while tucking a strand behind her ear. Suddenly a thought occurs to him. "It's New Years."
Hungary quirks an eyebrow. "Very good. Now can you tell me what year it is?" he drawls sarcastically.
He ignores her quip. "I don't have any tulips to give you anymore."
Over his shoulder the clock blinks 3:02 am. Elizaveta sighs and wiggles over so that she is plastered to his side. "I don't need tulips anymore."
"But-"
"Just wish me a happy new years and make me baklava in the morning and we'll be fine Sadiq."
"You actually called me by my name. If I'd know all it took was a few, mind blowing kisses then I would have done so decades ago. Maybe a few more can get you to grow your hair out again?"
She punches his in the chest, but not as hard as she could have. "You're pushing it Turkey." she smiles and hides it in his shoulder.
"Oh are we back to Turkey again? Fine, fine, I'll make you breakfast."
"Good." The Hungarian woman yawns and buries her face in his neck, taking in the smell of him. It is so familiar and yet new and exciting. She likes the way she can feel his heart beating strong through the thrum of his jugular.
"Happy New Years Eli." he mummers.
Elizaveta gently kisses the underside of his jaw and whispers back. "Happy New Years Sadiq."
It'll be the best year ever, I think I'll wait another year
Can't we just wait together?
I think I'll wait another year.
FIN
Notes;
Anne- Turkish for 'Mother'
Karim- Turkish for 'bride'
Magyar- Ancient Hungary
Tatlim- Turkish for 'beloved' roughly. Don't quote me, my Turkish is questionable.
'That wimp Austria'- The king of Hungary, Lajos II, was killed in the battle of Mohacs leaving behind no heir to the throne of Hungary and Bohemia. Hapsburg ruled Austria jumped at this opportunity and claimed that their line lay claim to the throne. I would think that a foreign power, especially one like Austria whom Hungary has been warring on and off with for decades, saying that they were the rightful heir to your country would be a point of contention.
Alim- The name I have given Northern Cypress. It means 'wise' or 'learned' in Arabic.
'Another Year'- Is a song from the amazingly inspiring Amanda Palmer. It was on loop while I wrote this baby. I help me to get the correct vibe. I highly recommend you listen to it.
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This little baby kicked my ass. It was super hard for me to write this because it's structure is sporadic, more so than my usual style of writing, and as a result it was hard to get a continuous flow. Think of this story as my way of apologizing for taking so long in updating 'The Golden Cage'. I'm sure I'll update that. Someday.
Thank you for reading and please leave a review telling me your thoughts!
Forever and Eternally,
-Ra